I am an aimless wanderer in an abandoned factory building. There are sometimes birds that shit on me, and sometimes the cogs of old machinery roll off the walls and ceilings and injure my person. But other days there are fantastic sculptures and musical instruments to be welded out of rusty old bits and chunks of metal. I think this factory was used to mass-produce industrial strength bullshit, and as you can see I'm rather full of it.
My Interests
I'd like to meet:
Dead: Frank Zappa (modern music's greatest renegade genius and free-thinker extroardinaire, not to mention great political activist), Bill Hicks, and let's say... Fred Rogers.Alive: I already met Dr. Dre, so that pretty much takes care of it. Word.
